It’s incredible to me how much my life has changed in such a short period. Five months ago I was a working mom running my own business, hell bent on success. My work defined me, it was my ego and almost all of my waking moments. I was so proud of what I had achieved and always moving on to the next step, the next goal. Now, in this space where I find myself each day, exhausted and weak, I can’t help but think I was so wrong.
These days I fantasize about cooking dinner. Anyone who knows me will laugh out loud at this. I used to brag about how terrible a cook I am and that I was too busy with “important” things to want to make a meal. Now I sit and drool over recipes in Sunset magazine like they are food porn. It’s not the food that gets me going, it’s what a home cooked meal represents. Warmth and love in the home. I want my family to come home from their day and walk into a warm home marinating in the luscious scent of a delicious meal. A meal made with love and intention to nourish their bodies and souls. I want to be a mother more than anything in this world.
I had my children at a young age and never really had time to find myself before I was defined by being a mother. I think my fierce attachment to my business was my way of fighting for a piece of me that wasn’t defined by my family. I also felt that the best way to care for my children was to provide a future for them, for us to be financially stable. Don’t get me wrong, I was a mother too, but in rushed mornings and exhausted evenings; there wasn’t much quality time to be had.
Yesterday afternoon while sitting on my front porch and watching my son rally his bike down the sidewalk I held my eight year old daughter in my lap and listened to her day. She went through each minute of school, what lessons she had learned, what picture day was like and finally the story of how her friends had had a huge fight and how her little spirit had been crushed. I held my long legged, knobby kneed child while she cried and caressed her head and in that moment found where life’s true purpose (for me) lies. I was able to be there for her, to give comfort and a listening ear in a moment of stress and all was good.
When I think about what I will miss most if my life is cut short, it’s not the long hours or the small successes of my career, it’s the quiet moments on the porch holding my children and listening to their tales. So I have now made it my mission to cook delicious meals when my body will allow, to listen with a sympathetic heart and to cuddle every moment that I can carve out of this frantic world. We never know how many we may have.